The Aftershock
Of course, Amdanda’s death affected me a lot and for years I thuoght the my problems all stemmed from her death, and maybe they did, but much of it was the outcome of my own and other’s reactons to her death.
First off I blamed myself for her death until February ’99. When I could finally admit it wasn’t my fault I needed to know whose it was. That’s when the Cole/God piece of history came up. I wanted to know how he could let her die. Maybe he didn’t care, or maybe he didn’t exist. For some reason, I favored the latter and since then, I’ve not been able to find my way back to God, the Christian God, at least.
During Amanda’s almost-7-month hospital stay,I rarely saw my mother or sister because they were an hour away and my mother’s husband at the time (and Amanda’s father) rarely visited his wife and daughter. I couldn’t tell you why and perhaps, as cruel as it seems, he was just having trouble dealing himself. However, I kept waiting for my mother to “return” to my life and this never happened.
After Amanda died Mom had no reason to stay with Dan. So we left, and she filed for divorce. It took a while for the divorce to be final. and all the while her attention was on it. She had spent to much time in Marshfield, on the divorce, and then she started dating. I always felt like I was on the back burner. None of this did any good to our relationship. I grew really independent because of it, and still don’t know how to close the gap.
We moved in with Tim. and I didn’t like not being in control. Stuff was out of my power, and I couldn’t change it. Nothing was how I’d imagined it. It also didn’t help that I don’t know my father, and partially blamed that on my mom. Although I’ve come to respect what she did for me as a single mother. I just didn’t want Tim trying to be my father because he wasn’t the real thing. He’s done a good job of that, and isn’t really like a father figure but a friend.
I didn’t grieve for Amanda when she died, I was only 9 and incapable of understanding everything. So the end of my 8th grade year, it happened. I was constantly thinking about her death, crying all the time, depressed. But then it ended. I felt she was at peace, and it would all be okay. I spent the first year not crying on her birthday. I was happy, and knew she wanted me to be.
So we’ve got the personality fragility complex thing going on. I looked for the attention I didn’t get from my mother from my friends, but they couldn’t handle it, and I shouldn’t have expected them to. I was depressed because they couldn’t give me what I needed and every time I said something I didn’t feel like they were listening. It took about a year for me to realize I can’t expect so much from people, and maybe I wasn’t giving enough either.
It’s hard for me to be close to people, because I’m always afraid I’ll lose them. I only want to say something perfect, to be perfect, and most of the time is stops me form being who I really am.
What hurt the most was the fact that I never got to say good bye. I wasn’t there. I was an hour away, sitting, not knowing what was going on. I always felt like she didn’t know I loved her. I still wish I could have told her.
But it wasn’t all bad. I matured (if a little too quickly), learned about hospitals and how to better empathize with others, and have a very strong sense of family. I started writing, and had a new outlook on the world. From this all I’ve grown to not like it when people say I’m “so young”, because I’ve learned so much, I don’t feel young, and I know many people can relate.
After so many years of hell at Dan’s I’m glad we could finally leave. And I still think Amanda’s happy wherever she is. She is still the most important person in my life, and always will be. I love my little angel, and just hope she knows that.
